Home
by Misplaced Matches
Summary: As a mere child, Loki learns of his frost giant heritage. He is given the choice to leave Asgard behind and embrace his people, though the meaning of family impressed upon him by Frigga may not be upheld in a realm of frost giants. Blood runs deep, but does it run true? Rated M for possible torture scenes, etc.
1. Aftermath

A/N: I do not own Thor or any of the characters. My representation of them is purely for writing of fan fiction. As it is not so obvious to begin with, my plan is to write about Loki and Thor as children as opposed to adults. I apologize for inconsistencies, though I may change parts later to account for a different series of events.

Prologue

Snow blew angrily across Jötunheimr, home of the frost giants. Back in their realm, the Asgardians downed ale like water and ate like kings. This realm was a polar opposite. The sheet of snowflakes glistened, ensanguined with the lifeblood of the fallen armies. They choked the ground like patches of uneven carpet. The sky stayed a consistent shade of gray. A monstrous, tusked beast lay wounded, swiping at Asgardians as they passed just outside of its radius. Odin wondered in spite of himself if their bodies would freeze. He raised a hand to his eye socket, wincing at the emptiness. The giants had paid for that with more lives than he wished to count. The only good thing about the cold was the numbing it lent to his wounds. The All-Father cursed as his foot snagged the misshapen ice, his balance afflicted by the strain on his eyesight. He surveyed the field once more and walked unopposed to Laufey's vacant throne, wary of the stalagmite formations that pointed like ragged cones toward the thick ice he treaded on.

The structures had the hue of frost giant skin, as if composed of ice instead of some type of rock. The throne was the focus of his red-tinged vision; Odin jerked his head to the right to make up for the half of his vision that had been stolen from him. The back of the throne branched off in three directions, diverging to his thrown. The metal was lifeless to his touch. Fitting for the giants.

Something stirred in the corner of his vision and then an excruciating pain enveloped his ankle, as if he'd stepped into a fire. Reflexes ripe from battle, Odin shouted and plunged his sword into the arm of the frost giant female that had been deranged enough to lay hand on him. The frostbitten fingers slackened and the giant's arm fell with a sickening _thump_. Vile eyes bore into his as he twisted his blade through the heart of the giant, the sound her ribs cracking reminding him of how many lives his steel had claimed in the past few hours. A film of frost giant blood coated the blade.

Odin had not seen a single frost giant standing since the fighting abated.

Wailing flooded in the castle. At first, Odin was not sure he'd heard anything at all as the noise was so shrill and sudden. It was like Thor's cries with added pitch. The cry struck him as a plea. He slid his sword out of the slain giant, using his foot as leverage. He followed the bawling, trying in vain to avoid stepping on the frost giants in his path. Odin found the source of the cry in the frost giant temple. A baby, small for a frost giant's offspring. Alive among the dead. Alone. Suffering. Left to die. He blinked, trying to make sense of the faint lines on the child's forehead and body that marked their parents.

Laufey's son. Odin brushed the child's head and the sobbing subsided for a fleeting second. Cold seared his fingertips.

A plan begin to stir in Odin's mind. The son of his most prominent enemy. A child on the opposite side of the fight. Odin gingerly lifted the child, stroking the newborn's head with affection. His lips held a faint smile. This child was an innocent, something he could save from this battle. Something good that might come of all the red-stained snow and pain. Odin tested his power, changing the boy's royal blue skin to a shade similar to his own. The garnet eyes shifted to a less piercing, tangible Asgardian eye color. Odin rocked the boy in his arms as he would Thor. The child could be the turning point for the Asgardians and Jötun, a way to bring about a permanent peace. An alliance could be born if he nurtured his discarded child; the people needed some common ground. He hummed a lullaby to the boy in hopes that someday they would have no reason to kill one another.


	2. He Who is Worthy

Chapter One

"Your father is busy, Loki. His position requires much of his time. You know this." Frigga sighed and bent to one knee, looking her younger son in the eye. "I am sure he would like to see you at dinner. He especially likes hearing of your adventures." She said affectionately, her voice rising with pride.

"If he's so busy, how come he has time to show Thor how to use the hammer?" Loki replied sourly, eyes fixed on the stretched reflection of himself on the golden floor. Odin and Thor raised the hunk of iron to the sky almost every morning, directing weather like paint on a canvas. It looked easy and it looked fun. And he didn't get to have any of it.

"Thor's learning how to fight with it, sweetie. Maybe Odin will teach you with another weapon when you're older. Soon, but not yet." Frigga reasoned, trying to appeal to a battle hardy nature that Loki didn't possess. "One with a full handle, I'd hope. Mjölnir is an odd piece of metal."

_Which is why it'd be proper for me._ Loki added silently. He'd never so much as touched Mjölnir. There were other forms of power, he knew; Loki had looked into magic. The librarian cagily handed him books full of historical spells and schemes, perturbed with his hobby. Loki kept his studies to himself, fearful that Odin or Frigga would decide that magic wasn't what they wanted their son to learn about. The Jötuns had used it as a weapon against them in the battle almost eleven years ago and it was still scorned by Asgardians. To them, magic was tainted with deception, dishonesty, and lies.

"I'm going to find Thor." Loki smiled sheepishly. Frigga gave him a firm hug and sent him on his way.

Loki wandered into the small courtyard, none too surprised to see Thor weighing the short-handled hammer in his arms. He bent down behind one of the hedges, pausing to examine a dragon sculpture he hadn't noticed other times. It was the size of a small cat and a burnished yellow in color. Emerald claws protruded from its raised feet, curving against the platform it was placed on. Even in the still, it looked enraged. He touched its snout, half expecting it to bite him.

_CRACK! _Loki jumped half his height off the ground, frantically looking left and right to see where the noise had come from. Thor clenched Mjölnir playfully and watched as the boulder he'd been sitting on split in half, the rock grating as it separated like a piece of broken chalk.

"Hello brother!" he called after giving a hearty laugh. Loki gaped at him, his heart a jackhammer in his chest. "Did I scare you?"

"N-no!" he stammered, smoothing his shirt. Half of the rock banged against the cobblestone paving of the courtyard. Seeing that his wiry brother was not impressed, he held gave an apologetic grin.

"Want to try?" he offered, bounding over to his brother and holding the handle out as though passing on a knife. Loki wrapped his hand rigidly around the handle.

Thor let go. The hammer plummeted as if yanked to the ground by an invisible antagonist. Loki's knees buckled and he crashed to the grass, his breath was buffeted from his lungs by the sudden, jarring collision with the dirt. The hammer had planted itself on the soil, ignorant of Loki's hands still clutching it. It sunk a few centimeters into the dirt as though it were mud. Thor stared at him, wide-eyed. "Loki, I-"

"You knew that would happen!" he seethed between breaths. Loki couldn't believe he'd been deluded enough to fall for something like that. Loki clamored to his unsteady feet and rubbed his elbows. His body was trembling and the ground seemed to shift like the deck of a boat on the seas.

"Are you hurt?" Thor ventured, crestfallen that he'd caused Loki's tumble. Loki felt as though someone had beaten him against the floor. Loki took a step backwards and lost his balance, nearly falling a second time. Thor caught his arm to steady him, but Loki shook him off. "Brother, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that would happen." Loki gritted his teeth, eyes venomously fixed on Thor. Thor tentatively extended his hand to his brother in an apology, but Loki's hands were balled up into fists. Quivering with anger and embarrassment, he cut past Thor and ran inside.

* * *

A/N: I do not own Thor or any of the characters. My representation of them is purely for writing of fan fiction. As it is not so obvious to begin with, my plan is to write about Loki and Thor as children as opposed to adults. I apologize for inconsistencies, though I may change parts later to account for a different series of events. Reviews are nice, they help me figure out where my story is weak and what details people would like to see addressed.


	3. Blood Matters

**Chapter Two**

The best thing about the library was that Loki could learn about magic there. Impressive shelves encompassed the room, forming circular pathways around it. Twelve separate shelves of books stacked one on top of the other. The top two were packed with yellowing parchment paper, records new and old. And of course, there was the droopy statured librarian. The man himself squinted at him from behind his spectacles, his lips pressed together, thin as a page. Loki's cheeks flushed under the belittling man that regarded his every page turn with suspicion. The moment he'd shown interest in magic, the man's attitude had turned resentful. Loki reassured himself that he had done nothing wrong and had nothing to be guilty of. Not even any magic. Not yet, at least.

"There are numerous types of sorcery," the librarian cautiously when he had first inquired. "Does your mother know you're filling your head with it?"

"She doesn't mind." Loki misinformed him evenly. "I should know about it, she says, Asgard would be well to have people who can combat it." With that, he'd been permitted to look through a tremendously dense textbook of magical history. There was a whole realm of things to be accomplished with it, things his father only touched on in his speeches. Things Thor didn't know. Things his mother wanted nothing to do with.

Loki wouldn't have to be weak with magic. Once they realized his aptitude for it, they would have to get him a teacher. Perhaps they would finally let him go to other realms as Thor did and he could match Thor's battling competence with spells. Lugging the book off the shelf and dropping it onto the table with a resonating thump, he picked up where he had left off: Frost giant sorcery in the battle for the tesseract, eleven years ago. They described evil magics by a heartless and cunning race. This, he thought happily, was going to be good. He slid his finger between the lines, pausing on occasion to look up a word. The hands of the clocks grew wings as he immersed himself in his preferred type of history lesson.

Loki fixed had already finished his attention on the first section about natural frost giant magic, more an abilities of their species than anything else. His mother's voice broke the still of the library with a gentle greeting.

Summer air wafted through the room. Frigga proceeded to sit down next to him, her eyes shadowed with worry.

"It's too nice a day out for books. I thought you said you were going to be with Thor." Frigga pressed. Loki held his breath. "What are you reading that's better than a sunny day?" Loki was motionless as Frigga turned to the cover.

"Father mentioned it to me, and it's important, right?" he summed quickly. In spite of this, Frigga looked at him pointedly, more surprised than anything else. Loki melted into his chair, a pleading expression drawn on his face. As usual, she would launch into some explanation or justifying example that would make him wrong.

"Magic is not suitable for you to study. It's not a subject for you." she deadpanned. Frigga ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes. "Your father wants to see the two of you. Promise me you'll not look into this craft again."

"I promise." Loki looked like a slapped puppy. He rested his head in his hands, instantly compiling ways to get at the books. Night visits. Making Thor get it for him. Falsify a signature on a request. The librarian's eyebrow raised a few notches as if to condemn him. To Loki's relief, he returned nonchalantly to his writing.

"To the great hall with you." Frigga directed. Loki obliged reluctantly, leaving the cool of the library for the bustling hallways. Asgardians in full battle garb patrolled the passageways, situating themselves in front of doors and the treasury at the end. Loki walked a maze that he'd known for as long as he could remember and entered the gilded hall.

Thor stood on Odin's left side, a grin spread across his face. He held that hammer. Loki grimaced and was reminded of his bruised front. Thor set Mjölnir down on its side when Loki climbed the stairs to the throne, admiring the view of the hall and carpet from the platform. He stood on Odin's other side. Thor leaned on the side of the throne and beamed at his father. Conversely, Loki slumped on the side of the winged throne where Odin's cold metal eye patch was fitted and shifted his hands nervously.

Odin looked as though he had seen better days. His skin looked tallow in the light, as if washed out from the demands of the day. In an effort to draw Loki closer to him, he reached out blindly to touch his shoulder. Loki felt a chill to his father's palms.

"What did you want, father?" Loki inquired, voice like a mouse's.

"My son, Asgard is a realm that wants peace for all of the nine realms. There is nothing I despise more than the bloodshed of my comrades." Odin paused and Loki could tell he was trying to justify whatever was to come next. "There has been a theft. Someone has stolen from the Jötuns, taken the crown of king Laufey and in turn removed one of their most powerful talismans. I have no doubt in my mind that they will name one of us as the swindler and choose to attack Asgard."

"Who took it, father?" Thor said with a certainty that implied Odin possessed all the answers.

"We have only suspects at the moment. I am hesitant to point out possible thieves." Odin replied with a sage-like calmness.

A voice as booming and loud as a peel of thunder reverberated about the hall. Magic, Loki realized ecstatically.

"King of Asgard, hear me. Return my crown and we will have no quarrel for this day. You have taken from me power, but none that is not otherwise belonging to my brethren." Odin rose to his feet. Odin closed his eye for a second and his brow furrowed.

"Loki go NOW to your chambers." Odin ordered, tone bitter and steadfast. Loki clenched the side of the throne. Of course he would be the first to go. Odin didn't want him there; Loki was the boy on the side of his blind eye, a mixed blessing. "Go!" he shouted and yanked Loki up by his arm.

The ornate doors that lead to Asgard opened, knocked aside by a rogue wind.

"You do not reply, Allfather." the chilling voice's amplified words said. Loki sprinted down the steps. Odin and Thor descended the staircase in front of the throne like avenging angels. Thor was on the warpath. Father and son had their hands to their weapons, hair-trigger reflexes on their side.

Loki glanced back as he nearly cleared the last set of steps and tripped on the bottom one. He broke his fall with his palms and saw as eight men, each the size of two Asgardian warriors, walked down the carpet laid out in the hall towards his brother and father.

They were the color of a frozen pond. The skin itself was not smooth like his, but ridged and scarred like treacherous ice with mottled darker shades. They moved with a lethal grace even though they wore metallic body armor that seemed to be forged directly into their flesh. Loki shuddered at the sight of their glassy crimson eyes. The drawings had never done them any honor.

Thor hurled Mjölnir at the giant walking in front. He bore his teeth like an ill-tempered dog and reached for a dagger in his pocket when the giant sidestepped his hammer.

Snarling, a giant broke rank, having singled out Loki as weak, and picked him up before he could make a noise in protest. The giant held him like a cook might to gut a fish. Odin's hardened expression twisted to shock. The giant brandished a curved claw of a knife, pressing it daintily against the hollow Loki's throat. His heart ran like a jackrabbit.

"Let him go." Odin ground his teeth.

"Now we have something of yours... Not a fair trade for us, I think."

"Laufey. We need not do this."

The giant curled one blotchy finger at Loki.

"Freyrssssson, bring the boy."

The frost giant brought Loki to the most fearsome of the eight. A cruel smile split his face like a blade, revealing the needlelike mouth of teeth. He touched Loki's cheek with one massive finger pad, expecting blue to blossom across his face.

Instead, the shade of his own skin drifted across the peach tones of Loki's, changing the color of his eyes to that of blood. The pigment flaked away like old paint.

"What is this trickery?" growled the frost giant king. He touched the trembling boy's brow and then drew back in sudden revulsion.

"Nothing more than a boy." Odin shot back. His sword was in his hand. Laufey's eyes shrunk to bloody slits.

"What have you done, Allfather?" Laufey spat. The tip of the blade prodded Loki's neck.

"Remove your hands from my son." Odin said with finality.

"This boy is no Odinsson. He wears only your skins."

"Father, Loki is of Asgard. This must be one of their deceptions." Thor directed Mjölnir's head at Laufey. The giant let red down Loki's collar, teasing the skin apart. A briny tear trickled down Loki's cheek.

"I want my crown." Laufey hissed, cracking a cold-blooded smile. Loki clenched his teeth and tried to stanch his watery eyes. Streams of blood slithered down his neck.

"We don't have it!" Thor bellowed.

"Pity," he shot back, pressing the blade deeper into Loki's neck. The prince cried out in distress.

"Laufey, do not kill the boy. He is your son." Odin threw down his sword. The frost giant turned his ruby gaze on Loki and planted his palm on the boy's forehead, the magic of the giant stripping away the pallid skin shade. Laufey examined the marks on the boy's head.

"How is this, that you speak truth!"

"He was to die after the battle. I love him as my own."

"_Love _me?" Loki muttered. Odin had claimed this before, but it made sense now. Why Odin favored Thor, why he was confined to the castle, why he was the one who came second if at all. "I don't belong here." Thor opened his mouth in protest.

"Brother, do not say things like tha—"

"I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!" Loki seethed. Laufey released his hold Loki's neck.

"You are my son," Laufey murmured to him. "You do not belong here."

"Loki, do not listen to him." Odin warned in the same tone he took when disapproving of magic.

"I wish to speak with my son alone." Odin grimaced.

"I will allow this if you turn him first to us to dress this wound you have inflicted so courteously upon his skin." Laufey was silent for a moment, calculating.

"I will _allow you_ to take my lost heir for a quarter of an hour."

* * *

A/N: Immensely enjoying writing this. Let me know what you think!


	4. Trash Among Treasure

A/N: I do not own Thor or any of the characters. My representation of them is purely for writing of fan fiction. I apologize for inconsistencies, though I may change parts later to account for a different series of events. Thank you for watching/favoriting this story!

* * *

Chapter Three

"OW!" Loki yelped. He tried in vain to stop the nurse from pushing together the split skin on his neck. The hot blood had clotted some, leaving a crystalized reddish brown mass on his neck. Frigga had been relieved to find that the frost giant had not damaged anything vital.

"We're going to send you down to Odin's chambers and he will deal with the Jötuns." Frigga kissed his forehead hastily and took his hand, comforting herself more than him. "You're going to stay there for a time. Thor will be with you."

"I thought I was going to talk to the king." he retorted.

"Laufey?" she asked incredulously, searching for a sign on her adopted son's face. Frigga found only contempt. "Dear. We can't ha—"

"Can't WHAT?" Frigga was not used to tempestuous behavior from this one of her sons. "Were you every going to tell me? D-don't I deserve to know what I am?" Frigga's hand twitched. She considered slapping him for an instant. She knew it wouldn't help.

"You CANNOT speak with that monster!" Frigga was exasperated and the cruel red drips on his throat justified her anger.

"Really? Because I think I will." Loki's face twisted into a vindictive smile and Frigga smacked him hard enough to turn his head to the side.

"I will not be spoken to in this way!" she locked one of his hands in her iron fingers. "We are going _now_. And you are _not_ going to speak with a frost giant." She ground out the last words like rancid meat.

Loki wanted to see the king. He wanted to see his father, not the liar Notfather.

Odin trudged into the infirmary, deprecating gaze weighing on the two of them. Frigga stood up rigidly.

"Do you trust Laufey?" Frigga asked as if to prove to Loki that there was something terribly wrong with this person he so desperately wanted to converse with.

"Have I ever trusted Laufey?" Loki avoided Odin's eye. "By the nine realms, why do you want to have anything to do with him?"

"He wants me. His lost son. He won't hurt me because…" Loki exhaled heavily to give himself time for choosing words. "I don't belong here. I never have." Frigga looked to Odin to counter the boy, but he upheld the silence. A nurse tried again to dab at Loki's neck, but was dismissed by Odin.

"If this truly what you desire, to give yourself to a frost giant that doesn't even know your name and turn your back on the realm that raised you, be gone." Frigga gasped at the Allfather's words, an unsaid nos on her lips.

"Asgard is your home. Don't forget that." Frigga whispered the boy. He turned his head away from her and rubbed his cheek irascibly. Frigga wanted to hold the child she'd raised from infancy, to cradle him in her arms and reassure him of his belonging and identity. Loki's eyes stung with tears that he refused to let fall as he followed his two adoptive parents. He plodded behind Odin's rippleless coat, footsteps muted and attention fixed on the floor. He stopped a tail's length from bumping into the god when he stopped in the throne room.

Seven outsiders were arranged in a semi-circle around the throne where Laufey sat languidly. Loki smirked as the frost giant broke rank and walked to the Asgardians, towering over them. The giant was pleased, clearly not have actually been expecting to see the boy again. Loki suppressed a smile; Laufey had an air of superiority and knowledge that he could not help but envy. The king knew something Loki did not and he wanted to rectify this.

"We had best be on our way, Loki Laufeysson." Laufey rumbled with an unusual debonair that made Loki question his doubt that a being of such bulk could have grace.

"He's a child of Asgard, we can't hand him over, Odin." Frigga's voice was low and pleading, words meant for the Allfather alone.

"Is this why you murdered his mother? To have him play prince and stick tinsel on your thrown?"

Odin paled like the snows that never fell in Asgard.

"N-no." Frigga

"Tell them, _king_, how you splintered her ribs when she reached out to you for help saving her sons."

"War is not a place for children." Odin replied tonelessly. Laufey cleared the distance between him and Odin, leaving only a few feet.

"We are leaving." Laufey stated flatly, showing milky teeth. "It is time for the prince to stand beside his the throne he was born to… Kindly remove your skin trickery from the boy, Odin. He is a frost giant and his people shall see him kin."

"Loki, do you want this?" Loki hesitated for an instant and then dipped his head. Odin's warm palm touched the side of his recently struck cheek. Loki's skin dropped the farce of Asgard. He winced away from Odin's hand like it was a hotplate. The room felt torrid, uncomfortable all of the sudden. Loki sucked in a breath of desert-worthy air and switched sides from to join his biological father. The giants filed out behind the father and son, the seventh of them giving a mirthless laugh at the Asgardians.

Heimdall's metallic frame came into view at the end of the Bifrost as the giants walked, an uneasy silence in their midst. The bridge lit in all colors as the nine crossed it. Heimdall held his golden broadsword close to his body and Loki knew he was ready to use it if necessary. The giants passed the gatekeeper, paying him no heed. His face betrayed nothing when the scarlet eyed boy walked by him. Heimdall followed the group in and slid the weapon into the Bifrost to open it.

"Now you are awake to what I have known for all of this time…" Loki heard and then his body was ensnared in the transportation method of the Bifrost.

* * *

A/N: If you're confused, reread the prologue. As before, I try to remain consistent. Also, Tom Hiddleston. Because Hiddles. I pull my evidence for Heimdall being aware of Loki's frost giant roots from the scene in Thor where he states that Loki is not dressed warmly enough, pre travel to Jotunheimr. And that he sees almost everything.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Before he so much as had time to blink an eye, Loki's kneecaps thumped on the ice. The foreign realm was jagged with chunks of snow and frozen mountains. Other than the occasional obstruction, it went on barren like a wasteland, spreading in every direction. The ground immediately beneath his knees was oddly translucent, as if reflecting the spiked landscape to a second side. Surrounding him, flecks of white blew every which way on the eerily whistling winds. He tilted his head upward to the undefined sky. Loki had heard of snow: soft, pristine white crystals that drifted from the sky on Midgard in the winter times. The no silver moonlight was visible nor were any of the clouds he'd assumed there would be. To his dismay, he couldn't tell if there was any sky.

Morning frosts on the ground in Asgard were dewy and crisp, whereas this realm was encrusted with frost as a rock might be encrusted with dirt.

The frost giants, with their heels less than a finger's length from the chiseled edge of Jötunheimr, were incompliant with the winds that pummeled them. To Loki's left, Laufey touched his own head absentmindedly and then exhaled his lungful of Asgard's air forcefully.

"Boy." Laufey snapped his fingers Loki. The young giant paid him as much heed as he would've Odin in the same case: none.

"Why is there no welcoming? Do they not want to greet me?" he said with derogatory disbelief. Thor would've had a banquet or horses in fierce gallop to take him on their backs. Nothing was alight in Jötunheimr. "They aren't even greeting you and you said I was their k—" The malicious glare of another frost giant spooked him into silence. Their lips curled downwards at the edges and their facial muscles were set with a like sinister drawl. Not one of them wore a lighthearted expression.

"They do not rise for me and you expect notice for you?" Laufey chuckled humorlessly. "You are the heir to a throne of the powerful, not to sniveling cowards." Loki heard a few of the others chime in a laugh, coupled with a muttering of "Odin's brat." Loki walked a few paces away from the edge of the realm, displaying himself in front of the Jötuns.

"I thought the values of frost giants were brain over brawn. Magic," he added airily, adapting a lilting tone. "For those who are powerful enough to wield it."

"Enlighten me, boy. What is it that you would claim to know of magic?" Inquired Kraki, a poorly build giant by a warrior's standards, in mock interest. Kraki twisted an intricate, icicle-like staff in its grasp. Laufey wasted no breath in reply and made his way across to a snow bank with ease. Loki felt his forehead grow hot.

"I was born to be a king and I will know magic. I will know Jötunheimr as I was born to." His voice rose in volume. "And believe me, I will—"

"Prove your words with actions before you try to prove yourself a man." Kraki silenced him with an almost familiar dismissive voice. _Undermine me as you list,_ Loki thought_. I will rule one day._

* * *

Laufey slid onto his throne. The Loki boy had taken to a traditional chamber and promised magic advisory. He'd fallen asleep with the aid of a sleeping tonic Laufey sprinkled over his food as an afterthought. Kraki had been testy with Loki. So long as the runt had his neck intact, Laufey cared not of what he would occupy himself with.

The king's head felt raw without the metal crown that defended his skull. When had he taken it off? Where had he left it? Even more dire was the question of where had he placed it that one could have touched it? _Taken_ it? Lastly, a thought lingered that left his blood needing anti-freeze magics.

Who dares to steal my crown?

Laufey's fingers tapped idly on the arm of his throne, fingernails clacking against the metal. The open air court was vacant. A hearty laugh rumbled in his thick-skinned chest. His advisors had never been late to a meeting. _They must imagine my power wavering. _Laufey's position hadn't been achieved by chance, nor had he taken the crown from his predecessor cleanly. He had fought the previous king in all of his… Glory. Laufey was resolute in his stance on remaining the unchallengeable king, regardless of what he supplemented his magic and muscle with. The king clung to the wisdom that even the former king, with the frost giant crown, could be beaten. Not that he'd killed Magni; the darkest prisons of the realm held him in their cold embrace. Laufey had seen to it quite personally that Magni was silenced and secreted under, not to mention presumed to be dead. And now he was waiting for those who served him to show their faces. He would not be patient for much longer.

"I trust you have an explanation from taking the child without fighting for the crown of your race." Reginulfr magicked himself a chair on the ice of Laufey's court. Laufey reminded himself that Reginulfr was an _elder_ and that was supposed to command him some respect. Laufey found only his distaste for the heavy-handed frailty in his circle. Laufey reasoned that it was preferable to have this tactical mind in his court and not waiting with a weapon.

Kraki appeared to fashion himself a similar chair. His neck muscles were taught and his eyes abstruse. Kraki held the position of court magician, weaving spells over Jötunheimr and flexing to the will of his king. Laufey tossed him abysmal tasks to keep him busy; magicians tended towards mischief when they had time to spare.

Gersemi was the last to take a seat in the court. The giantess was an insidious thing, waltzing in and out of the shadows to do as she pleased. Thief, assassin or spy— whatever was required of her, she took it in stride. Her nails overtook her fingertips by several centimeters and curved to reinforced points. She took her place unhurriedly. Kraki waved his hand above his head and the area was enveloped in a bubble to keep their words from reaching the wrong ears.

"Do not keep me waiting again." Laufey warned. "Reginulfr, I thought it would be plain to an elder of your endless knowledge. The Asgardian royalty adore this boy and his absence upsets their queen. Through him, one way or another, we have their forced loyalty."

"There are no traces of your crown in this realm, my king." Gersemi offered, shrugging one shoulder. "I shall question Heimdall after we are through."

"I doubt he has seen much of my dwellings, Kraki claims to have spelled them. See what he knows." Laufey rested his head on his knuckle and turned vibrant gaze on the magician. "How went magically tracing it? Or were you too busy staving off the words of that boy?"

"I don't like children." Kraki stated. "I'll look into it. He has an interest in magic. Thought Asgard disliked it nowadays."

"Find someone to tutor him. Keep him out of my business and check him for any of Odin's handiwork." Laufey paused. "Or better. Tutor him yourself if your search is useless." _Make use of yourself somehow._

"Why do we not imprison him? He's not one of us." Reginulfr pressed. His war-hardened cowl of a head was not giving him much credit.

"Heimdall is watching him and Odin is a paranoid fool. Perhaps we can keep the runt here even after I reclaim my crown. This is a proper vice for us to hold Odin in, one of his own making… As long as he remains ignorant, they are at our beck and call." Laufey cracked a smile. "And I know just what to set them to work on."

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A/N: I do not own Thor or any of the characters. My representation of them is purely for writing of fan fiction. I apologize for inconsistencies, though I may change parts later to account for a different series of events. Thank you for watching/favoriting/giving me feedback on this story! Any response is appreciated, even if you hated it.


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